


Dizzy

by Aki_Saiko (saikowrites)



Series: Writober 2019 [24]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Inktober 2019, M/M, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, Sort of demential I guess, Spreading italian culture through fanfics, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Writober 2019, dizzy - Freeform, dont do this at home kids, shuake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 17:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21165392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saikowrites/pseuds/Aki_Saiko
Summary: Café Leblanc is Akechi's favorite place to go in days of overworking and stressful online life. Nice coffee, nice chats, even nicer barman. Who, unfortunately, likes to experiment with espresso a bit too much.Or, what happens if you mix ShuAke and coffee altered with whisky.WRITOBER 2019 | Day 24: Dizzy | Based on the official Inktober 2019 prompt list.





	Dizzy

**Author's Note:**

> HEY THERE SO. UHM. 10/24 of my writober was planned to be ShuAke from the start BUT someone pointed out to me that today is the 'Honey I'm home' international holiday, so even longer ShuAke because!! Who cares about sleep!!  
(My friends do, so if you're reading this, I love you) (special thanks to Discontinuous Qualia for helping me keep the holy flame of shuake alive)
> 
> Writing this has been a huge fun, it's nice to go all out with witty comebacks and teases without worrying too much about IC. And, it was all born from a) kind of personal experience (shhhh) and b) [caffè corretto!! ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caff%C3%A8_corretto)Which is an italian way to drink espresso: you 'correct' it with liquor (usually grappa, sambuca or cognac. But whisky is fine, too, so I went with whisky since it's a pretty big thing in Japan.)
> 
> So please enjoy this unconventional (?) ShuAke and drink you coffee with liquor only if you are of legal age in your country!

Akira’s gaze is fixed on Akechi form behind Leblanc’s counter. The other boy’s usual charming expression is distorted by disbelief.

“Where did you find _that_?”

Akira doesn’t retreat.

“Among the old stuff Sojiro stocked up in the attic. Almost broke it when I first cleaned it.”

Akechi’s eyebrows furrow in a sharp glare.

“As far as I am glad to hear that no clerk sold whiskey to a minor, I still advise that you put it back where it was and never think about it again.”

“I thought you wanted to forget about your awful day and, I don’t know, people trolling on the internet.”

“This doesn’t imply forgetting about the law, too. Besides, you are already under probation, you should stay away from trouble.”

_But breaking the law is basically what I do for a living_. Akira bites his tongue; he goes for a knowing smile instead.

“Someone snooped on me.”

The other flashes his tv smile and chuckles.

“Can you blame me for thinking that a teenage boy living in the old attic of a café was too peculiar of a scenario not to delve into it more?”

His expression hardens again.

“I insist, Kurusu, you shouldn’t do this.”

Akira plays with a strand of his thick fringe.

“But I even bought a moka pot.”

Akechi gives him a questioning look and Akira’s unmoved expression cracks a little. He adjusts the glasses on his nose.

“A moka. You place it on top of the stove and make espresso with it.”

Akechi’s mouth opens to speak but Akira answers first.

“Found it in the second-hand shop down the street.”

The other stays quiet. His hand runs to his chin, elbow on the wooden counter, and he crosses his leg. His eyes narrow and go back and forth between Akira and the blue-labeled bottle of whiskey. Akira doesn’t even know if it’s some refined liquor of sort, but it was tossed in an old box near the plant vase, so Sojiro shouldn’t find out. He wears his best flower shop smile and irradiates angelic kindness.

Akechi sighs.

“You sure are quite the type. Fine, I will give your ‘caffè corretto’ a try.”

Akira’s body lights up, but the brunette clenches fingers so strong the leather gloves creak and a dangerous, nice smile unravels on his lips.

“Of course, you are not allowed to try it. I trust your coffee skills to be experienced enough that you don’t need to taste it to make it a good one.”

***

Akira’s body projects towards the boy, his jaw in his palms and his look focused on the small ceramic cup in Akechi’s hand, who teases him with curled lips.

“Do you value my opinion of your illegal little experiment so much?”

_I value your opinion, period._ He shrugs.

“I’m not allowed the fun part, at least let me be curious.”

Akechi’s trademark charming aura blooms on his face and he lifts the cup in a toast.

“Cheers, then.”

He takes a small sip with eyes closed, but he savors the drink and blinks a few times.

“Kurusu, how strong is that whisky?”

Akira grabs the bottle and skims the label with a frown. He finds the number and his heart drops straight to the floor.

“62%,” he says, forces his tone to sound casual. Akechi’s eyes widen and he stills in his seat.

“Well, it certainly tastes so.”

Akira shoves hands in his pockets and gaze at him behind thick frames and wild hair.

“Is it that bad?”

“Ah, my apologies. I wouldn’t quite define it ‘bad’, per se, but the alcohol here tends to cover both the flavor and the texture of the espresso a bit much. I do like the concept behind the blend, though.”

He winks and purposefully tilt his head so thin locks can move in a lovely, idolish way. He puts the other finger to his lips.

“Don’t tell my fans about this.”

_Your secrets are safe with me._

Akira nods. He picks up the small moka and weighs it in his hand.

“There’s enough coffee left for two other cups.”

Akechi freezes with his espresso held mid-air.

“Are you maybe suggesting something?”

_C’mon, let me try this already._ He shrugs.

“I can make you a second cup with less alcohol in it, and then drink the rest.”

Akechi swallows the last bit of altered coffee. He laughs a little louder than usual.

“Only if I get to see how much whisky you actually pour in it. This one felt like strangely filled.”

***

Akechi plays with a button of his coat folded on the counter. Flushed cheeks move and bright red eyes enlace gaze with his, enthusiasm leaks from his voice in the discussion.

“I know it’s hard to grasp, but I do think Hegel’s vision of thesis and antithesis, their opposition and how they both lead to a new, superior truth, is still actual in today’s world. Both the thesis and the antithesis need each other to elevate themselves on a new level, which inherits something from them and at the same time is completely new.”

He waves his hand in the air as to enforce what he’s saying.

“It truly feels that way when I’m talking to you, at least.”

Akira’s digits are numb and stiff in his pockets, he clenches them but can’t quite _feel_ them completely. Eyelids are heavy even though he’s not sleepy, and overall light dizziness slows his mind and body. His mouth, still cotton from the coffee mixed with whisky he sneaked in his cup before pouring what remained of the drink.

Akechi saddens at his silence.

“Am I bothering you? I completely forgot about the time. I should probably get going.”

He stands up from the stool but immediately search for his support again and blinks once. Twice. He turns to Akira and forces a smile.

“Just – how much alcohol did you put in the first cup?”

Akira bites the inner of his mouth. He squints and goes back with his memory, but every precise detail escapes his mind.

“I don’t know, I haven’t followed precise proportions.”

Akechi glares at him and pinches the bridge of his nose in a fascinating and unusually honest display of annoyance.

“I think I’ll go sit on the booth.”

Akechi collapses on it more than sitting, and Akira unties his apron with trembling hands and strides towards him. His body lies on the seat and his head is reclined on the seatback. Akira sits beside him and he straightens a bit with a twist of his lips.

“I would say I’m sorry for stealing your time, but all this is your fault.”

“You were the older one in charge of the situation, though.”

“Shifting the blame, are we?”

Akira grins, and Akechi smiles back.

“You seem far more friendly,” he notices. A sparkle lights in his reddish eyes and his mouth parts.

“You drank something, too,” disappointment in his voice. “See, I can’t be the perfect and responsible one with some unruly teen like you.”

Akira slides in his Joker mask and teases.

“So boring. I like you more without your charming detective prince attire on.”

“I’d like you more if you weren’t the sober one. No fair.”

“So, you basically like me.”

“You do, too.”

“No, I mean. Normally.”

Akechi raises an eyebrow and stares at him.

“And you do, too.”

A shiver shakes Akira’s body.

“I don’t like where this is going,” he whispers.

“Me neither,” Akechi shakes his head, “but I don’t feel like I can shut up, so you better listen. It’s nice being able not to give a damn about problems for an evening.”

Akira covers his mouth in a theatrical imitation of surprise.

“I can’t believe that actual Goro Akechi just swore in my café.”

“First this isn’t your café, and second don’t mock me.”

“But it’s fun.”

“Do your friends know you’re such a hassle.”

_Yes, and we steal hearts in stylish costumes._ Akira curses at himself and coughs.

“Yes, and they love me.”

“Of course. Who wouldn’t?”

_You? Duh._

The hint of subtle resentment in his voice stings inside Akira’s chest and makes his heart clench. Traces of tiredness and pensiveness crack the surface of Akechi’s face, makes him look younger than the pocket version of a businessman.

“Are you tired?”

“Yes,” he answers in a blatant honesty Akira is not accustomed to. The boy gestures the whole length of the booth and Akira’s lap.

“Can I lay down for a while? My head is really getting heavy now.”

Akechi’s head leans on his legs, his chestnut hair makes a nice contrast with the flashy pattern of his school uniform trousers. Akira runs a hand trough it out of pure instinct, the boy hums in appreciation and he doesn’t stop.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Akechi blurts, “but I don’t care. If this is what alcohol does, now I think I get it why it’s so popular. Figures. It really lets you distance from your problems and worrying.”

“In a 100% healthy way.”

“Don’t bother me and let me enjoy the rest of my tipsy night.”

“I thought we settled on ‘evening’ just minutes ago, you’re telling me we’re taking it on the next step?”

“Could you please not make it sound like a wedding proposal.”

“More like fucking proposal, but as it pleases you.”

A hand badly slams his arm from a weird angle.

“So eager – I bet girls fight over your frizzy hair and witty comebacks all the time.”

Akira lowers his head a bit and continues to brush fingers in silk hair.

“Even if they did, I wouldn’t care,” he whispers.

A smirk makes way on Akechi’s mouth.

“Why so?”

“Someone else has my heart already. They’re prodigiously smart, stunning, with a sharp mind and even sharper tongue if needed. But they know how to get people like them. They wear a mask of perfection and do their job flawlessly, but in the innermost part of their hearts, they hold the strength to face society itself and wish to escape the chains of everyday life.”

Akira wets his lips. Pounding hearts are what fills his ears. His numbed mind calls for Joker another time.

“The question here, Detective, is whether I’m talking about you. Or about Makoto.”

The smirk on Akechi’s face turns into a grimace.

“You don’t only steal hearts, but you know how to break them, too. I’m almost envious.”

Words flash a light in Akira’s slowed down mind. His throat goes dry and goosebumps dot his arms, a shiver travels through his body end to end. _He knows. He knows, he knows. I messed up. I– _

Akira closes the distance and catches Akechi’s lips in his own. They boy startles under him. But he kisses back and runs his own hand through Akira’s black waves, pull them at every pulling off from Akira’s side.

A nervous laugh escapes him and breaks the kiss. _This is so wrong on so many levels._

“You break my heart and then kiss me like that. Did I end up in some trashy romance novel?”

“Do I have to shut you up again?”

“Ugh. So cliché.”

Akechi’s mouth twists. It relaxes, and his eyes lose focus.

“Can I stay like this?” he whispers.

“Sure.”

Akira puts his glasses on the table and adjusts on the booth, leans his head against the seatback. Soft voice comes from below.

“‘night, Akira.”

Heat flushes his cheeks. He forces himself to respond.

“Goodnight, Goro.”

***

Cold and wet on his ear. Something tickles on his neck. He shifts.

“Akira.”

Fur bushes against his nose and he sneezes.

He shuts open his eyes and Morgana is watching him from the table.

“I don’t know how you two ended up like this, but Sojiro’s coming here in twenty minutes. You better wash those cups and hide that bottle if you wish to keep a safe roof over your head.”

Blood runs cold.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

Tail waves.

“We can negotiate.” 

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: this fic now has a sequel! You can find it  here! 
> 
> Morgana is the second guardian Akira needs but definitely not the one he deserves.
> 
> Previous work in the collection: Love Live - Ancient - NozoEli  
Next one in the collection will be: Persona 5 - ShuAke / sequel to this one!


End file.
